Nothing Left to Lose
by Ellen Smithee
Summary: After Klaus and Stefan recapture Katherine, she finds herself falling under Klaus's spell again. Katherine/Klaus, Katherine/Stefan, Klaus/Stefan. Warnings: Dark fic, mild gore, implied torture, implied dub con, Dark!Stefan.


Klaus and Stefan catch up with her in Vegas of all places. Later, she's never sure whether it was due to her own carelessness (which she doubts) or Klaus's own dumb luck (which she doubts even more), but at the end it doesn't matter. Klaus has her, and she'll need all her cunning to get away this time.

She's sitting at a roulette table when her skin starts to prickle and she knows she's being watched. She looks up to see Stefan gazing at her with soulful eyes from across the room. She knows it's a trap, but she's never been able to resist him (or give up that tiny hope that maybe, someday...).

She slides off the stool, ignoring her winnings, and makes her way through the casino. When she reaches him, she holds out her hand, but, instead of taking it, he grabs her wrist, twisting cruelly. She gasps and tries to pull away, but then another hand grips her shoulder, fingers digging into her skin so hard she feels her bones creak.

"Hello, Katherine," Klaus murmurs in her ear. "Welcome home."

She shivers in revulsion, her gaze begging Stefan for help, but all Stefan does is laugh, his voice deep and rattling from disuse.

They take her to a ranch out in the desert, far from other houses and other ears that could hear her screams. After starving her for few days, Klaus takes her to bed, intent on restaking his claim. Her arms straining against the vervain-soaked bonds, Katherine looks Klaus up and down as he stands before her nude, her gaze settling on his crotch as her lip curls in disdain.

"You should've kept Rick's body," she remarks, raising her eyes to his in challenge.

Hours later, he's left not one centimeter of her flesh unblemished by a bite mark. Days later, her body twists in agony as her rotting skin sloughs off in sheets, and he and Stefan only just manage to hold her still enough to force his healing blood down her throat before she succumbs to madness and death.

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months. She loses all concept of time in a blur of hope, but more despair, pain and more pain.

Some part of her still wants Stefan, hopes-_knows_-he will be hers again one day, when this is all over (and she doesn't doubt that it will be one day). He's always there on the periphery, watching her with unreadable eyes, but never seeking contact, taking his cues from Klaus's commands. He finds comfort in blood (while she doesn't find any for once in her long life), losing himself every night with abandon. Sometimes she thinks she sees self-loathing there, but then he flips the switch again and sinks his teeth into the throat of another pretty young thing. He was made for this, she realizes soon enough. He'll never be able to go back this time, and sometimes she yearns to take part in his triumph. But she can't think about that now.

Saving her own skin, as always, has priority and thus she focuses on Klaus instead, relearning the methods and moods of her old lover and enemy, just trying to stay alive for the moment until she finds a way to escape. He expects her to try to manipulate him, so she obliges, and he thinks himself immune to her attempts. She rebels and acquiesces, argues and cajoles, and he laughs. Sometimes he hurts her, but other times, and with increasing frequency, he treats her almost with kindness. This she hates the most, hates the way it makes her feel, the way it makes her want _more_. She hates that she craves this, that, after all these centuries, a part of her still wants nothing more than to belong to creature that has made her life a hell. She ruins these moments as soon as she is able, acting out and then welcoming the clarifying pain of Klaus's punishment.

Sometimes Klaus makes Stefan watch when he's with Katherine, his eyes laughing as they meet Stefan's stony mien. She knows Klaus just wants to torment Stefan and she hates that Stefan is probably thinking of Elena, but she loves it, too, and she performs for him, enjoying the feel of Klaus's hands on her breasts and between her thighs and the way he moves inside her. Sometimes Stefan tries to turn away, but Klaus commands him to look, and, not wanting to be compelled, Stefan complies, his gaze fixed on Klaus's face. Stefan is anything but apathetic, pure rage shining through as if he could scorch them with it. On these occasions, Klaus is particularly attentive to her, pleasuring her to the point of incoherence, while Stefan takes it all in, a muscle in his clenched jaw twitching, his whole body tense as if to spring and devour them both.

Afterwards, Stefan always goes out to feed. One night, he brings home a man who bears a startling resemblance to Klaus and proceeds to take him apart bit by bit over the next few hours until the whole house is soaked in blood and screams. Katherine finds herself worrying that Klaus will enact some kind of revenge for Stefan's passive aggression, but instead he seems satisfied, amused even, and spoils her with surprising tenderness.

They move around a lot, not because Klaus is afraid of being caught (at least not by Damon, through perhaps by his siblings, recently reawakened), but because he's always looking for bigger, better prey. One night, they're on the interstate, Klaus dozing in the front seat with the driver, while Stefan and Katherine sit in silence in the back seat.

The rhythm of the wheels on the highway is just lulling her to sleep when Stefan leans in very close, inhaling her scent as he nuzzles her ear, and she shivers, her body responding to his unexpected nearness. She curls into him, feeling content and restless all at once.

"He's _mine_," he whispers menacingly and her eyes fly open. The heavy weight of comprehension settles into her bones, immobilizing her as he kicks the door on her side off its hinges and shoves her out of the moving car.

With broken bones still knitting, she's up and racing off into the night before the car has even come to a stop and she's gone by the time the shouting starts.

As she flees, the words of an old song run through her head, something about freedom just being another word for nothing left to lose, but she thinks she must be misremembering because, right now, she feels like she just won _everything_.


End file.
